Skyrim: You’re getting awfully judgey, Screen.

I don’t know how but I somehow managed to not die a fiery death that day. Through a series of uncoordinated and clumsy movements I managed to catch up to the terminator, who stood patiently waiting among the chaos.

As I approached him, he took off toward another building then stopped to watch me lumber along behind him. When I caught up he went in. I’m starting to sense a pattern here.

Inside, the terminator began babbling about dragons and Stormcloaks, which seemed a bit silly for a robot from the future, but I just kept my mouth shut and followed him around like Igor from a Mel Brooks movie. This turned out to be a good strategy because he unbound my hands.

“Pickpocket Hadvar?” asked the screen. Oh. He has a name. Well that’s good. But stealing from a killer machine who just unbound my hands seems ungrateful at the very least.

“Let’s get you some supplies,” says Hadvar. So I wander off to explore the room.

“Pick lock?” my screen asks as I approach a prison cell. Picking locks and stealing from others, huh? You certainly don’t have a very high opinion of me, Screen. But why not? It looks empty to me…

So I picked that lock and every other lock in the room. I also picked up everything I could and practiced moving around and jumping for a while. The terminator watched this all stoically from the door. An hour later I approached him.